


Letters to the Boss

by mrs_schoolweek



Series: Short Stories from Fallout Universe [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Bromance, Complete, Gen, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 12:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10163165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_schoolweek/pseuds/mrs_schoolweek
Summary: After finding Argyle's corpse, the Lone Wanderer returns his personal items to Dashwood. Turns out the "stalwart ghoul manservant" left a bunch of letters behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one's a real tear jerker, sorry.

Hi boss!

If you are reading this, I'm probably dead. At least I hope so, since I'd be so damn embarrassed if you are reading this while I am alive, I'd likely die anyway.  
I have followed you a long time, friend. Very long.   
Sometimes I have worried that we will continue our adventures on and on... Until we don't. Because humans die, boss.   
I have hoped countless times we would go down in a good old gunfight, you know. Because then I wouldn't have to watch you die and you never had to read this damn letter. But I bet that ain't gonna happen. 

It is completely fucking humiliating to write you this, and you should know that. However, I owe you that much.  
Remember when I saved your sorry ass the very first time, boss?  
I had lost my goddamn cock a few weeks back, my teeth hurt like hell and I was knee-deep in dept and mutant shit. I was a real wreck.  
That very day I was going to feed some Argyle-brain-jelly to those ferals in a shitty metro tunnel.   
Then I saw you in all that trouble and decided I could do it the next day.  
You looked like a child, you really did. It was almost like you needed a brother to help you out and have your back. Like you needed someone to keep you out of trouble.  
But I'm not your brother, Boss, and I never will be. Not even when you try to pretend that we are "equals" and "partners". Sure, you may believe that, but I know better.   
You are worth more to me than my own life. Because I just have a half-life, Boss.  
Damn, I love to see you smile.  
I bet you smiled.  
Please keep doing that, Boss. And please, don't go down in a gunfight. It wouldn't be half as cool as I made it sound like.

Faithfully yours  
Argyle

PS. If I'm dead, don't write me back. That would be downright creepy, Boss


	2. Chapter 2

Hi again, Boss!

Yeah, I get it. I'm propably dead by now. And you are propably crying.  
That's pathetic, Boss. Stop it.   
I'm writing this to you while you are banging some whore upstairs. Don't get me wrong, that's just fine. I'm glad one of us is still man enough to... Just man enough, okay.  
It has been hard to watch you do that all these years. Now I can finally say that, because you aren't going to kill me anymore. You have a problem, Boss, and I hate watching while you break your heart over and over again.

It is not just about you and whores. It's about you and every damn thing with a vagina, Boss.  
At first it was fun: to see you craving their attention, to see you nervous and arroused. You were hilarious, my boy. So young and foolish.  
But it hasn't been fun for years now. You know that as well as I do. You fuck them, lurk them and abandon them and while you can't have your daily pussy, you are an irritating, dangerous maniac.   
Now I have said it and I can't take that back.  
Because I'm your friend. And because I'm fucking dead.

You always wanted-, no, you needed something that isn't there. What is it?  
I know how your mother was. Is it all about that? Or is it more?  
Loyalty. Adventure. Respect. I tried to give it all to you, Boss, but it wasn't enough. And I don't blame you for that.  
Would be foolish to tell you to let all that go now. It is too late for that.  
All I ask is that you wouldn't go and "fix" losing me with some ugly prostitute. First, that ain't helping you and second, she could rob you now when I'm not around.  
You are already man enough, Boss. Don't you ever forget that.

Yours truly,  
Argyle

PS. All whores are a little ugly? Okay, just don't go bang a ghoul one, Boss


	3. Chapter 3

It's me again, Boss.

Let me guess: you went to a whore? And now you are crying again. I'm not even going to ask you stop anymore. Just cry if it helps.  
Writing these letters has left me thinking about our adventures.   
And now, when we aren't knee deep in shit, they are starting to seem quite epic, Boss.  
I have never said this to you, but you're actually a pretty decent shot. At least I hope so. If you shot that mutant brute straight between my thighs and just trusted lady Luck... Well shit, I don't have a cock anyway.   
Let's face it: you are a decent shot, boy. I should have told you that.

Coming to think about it, there are many things I should have told you. For example, why I followed you.   
It was never about "serving" you, no matter how much people call me your "stalwart ghoul manservant".  
Stalwart I may be, but that's because I have always respected you. I trust you, friend, and I love you. You have given me hope and meaning.  
If I ever had tried to say it out loud, it would have been disturbing and kinda gay, so I didn't. But I always loved you, Boss.

Travelling with you has been great. I know how much I have whined about it but that doesn't make it any less great.   
Remember our nights by a campfire? Desperate fights against hordes of mutants? Shared drinks and all the miles of Wastes we have walked trough together?  
You're the adventure of my half-life time, Boss.  
Even those bullets I've taken for you have been worth it. Worth you, actually.   
23 shots by now. How many, before I've gone down for good? You're an expensive man, Boss.  
Thinking about our journeys brings me back way further, to times your fresh wasteland ass can't imagine. You bring me back a piece of my own youth.  
We roasted fish (you know what that is, don't you?) on a campfire. We grilled corn and cans full of beans (they were fresher back then) and sang songs of the old world. We slept in tents and kissed silly, giggling girls.   
I was a boy scout back then, Boss.   
I know you don't know a shit about that, but it doesn't really matter. You bring me back to those times and that's what matters.   
You adventuring with me matters.

Faithfully yours,  
Argyle

PS. Don't you go roasting fish "for nostalgia's sake". Back in my days, those bitches didn't have ten-inch venomous teeth, Boss.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi again, you piece of ass!

Yes, I'm talking to you, Boss. I know these are my farewell letters and shit but it's better if I just write it out loud.  
You are an ass sometimes.  
A big, steaming pile of shithead. A cowardly, sleazy, pussy-hungry jerk with an idiotic appetite for praise and admiration.  
Sometimes you treat me like I didn't men anything to you.   
Why do I write something like this to say goodbye? I tell you why, Boss.  
If you ever grow old and wise, you'll understand what I said yourself. And I'm afraid you'll regret and mourn. That's for sissies. Stop it.  
Because deep inside, you aren't a complete bastard. Somewhere under all that cocky, stupid attitude and fake-badass looks hides a real man.  
A man I respect and love. My best friend. My Boss.

Remember the time we fell trough a fucking roof to that glowing, ticking laboratory? You gave me half of our Rad-X.   
I am a goddamn ghoul and you gave me half of our Rad-X!  
Remember when you quit banging that red-haired chick because I had pick-pocketed a little? You came to help me your pants still around your ancles, Boss.  
If that's not caring for somebody, I don't know what is.  
You are still wondering why I say to you all this?   
Because you, my friend, are an ass and I already knew that when I joined you the very first time. That didn't stop me trusting you or respecting you. There is no such thing in the world (except maybe pouring a bucket of chili sauce on me) that would take away my loyalty to you.  
You are the Boss of my rotten heart, Herbert.

However I died, no matter how we ended up apart (since I assume you still being alive if you're reading this) I am not angry to you.  
I don't blame you. I am not sad. I thank you, Boss.  
My life has been loan with a fucking terrible interest for ages. Centuries, to be honest. You are not and can not be the reason why I died. I have been a dead man for so many years you can't even count them with your little, innumerate brain.  
I was a walking corpse, Boss. A zombie. But I didn't crave anyone's flesh (except mirelurks, they are so fucking tasty...), I desired your affection.  
Friendship. Adventure. Your stupid smile. The way you let me call you "boss" and think you're in charge. Your love.  
Since I met you, you have been my necromancer. (That doesn't mean a dude who fucks dead people, Boss. Necromancer rises undead using magical power.)

With love,  
Argyle

PS. No, you didn't "rise" a damn thing with your presence, smart-ass. I don't even have what you have in mind.


	5. Chapter 5

These are the real goodbyes, Boss!

I'm all out of paper now. Hell, I'm writing this on the (probably) last piece of toilet paper on earth! Thinking about it, it's almost a national treasure. Just like you, my boy.  
If I had anything left of my lacrimal ducts I'd be crying like a little bitch. That's actually even more awkward since you're sleeping next to me while I write these lines.  
God I wish you won't wake up just now...

Dear Boss: there is very little left to say.  
I have already told you how creepily I love you and how fucking loyal I am to you.  
These are my final words:  
If she has boils down there, don't bang here.  
No, you'r gun isn't "fully loaded" unless you just loaded it.  
If it is blue, don't eat it.  
If I (instead of dying) end up feral, please, kill me. Now at the least.  
Never forget, how much you mean to me.

Forever faithfully,  
Argyle

PS. I don't know what happens after we die, no-one really does. But whatever it is, I'm waiting for you right here, backpacks ready, guns loaded and an ice-cold Nuka-Cola waiting for you. You always had a sweet tooth for that, huh?   
I can't wait to show you how real fish is roasted.   
The best adventure of Herbert "Daring" Dashwood and his stalwart ghoul manservant Argyle still awaits.   
That sounds like some stupid radio show, doesn't it, Boss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
